


Narratio

by Ocianne



Series: Mythverse [5]
Category: Magic Kaito
Genre: Fighting, Friendship, Gen, Mostly friendship by two kids who don't know how, Naga, Snark, dhampire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-11
Updated: 2013-05-11
Packaged: 2017-12-11 13:39:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/799346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ocianne/pseuds/Ocianne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eight months after Kaito first hired him, Saguru discovers that the consequences of chasing Jackal can be... unexpected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part One

"If you have to kill a snake, kill it once and for all."

~Japanese Proverb

* * *

The afternoon had been slow for business. At the sound of footsteps approaching on the sidewalk outside, Saguru swept his kanji textbook into a drawer and looked up, half in customary expectation and half in hope of a new client. When the door opened, however, the person who ducked out of the April drizzle into the warmth of his office wasn't a stranger. It was Kuroba, carrying a backpack almost half his size.

...Kuroba never came on Saturdays. He visited like clockwork on Mondays and Thursdays to pick Saguru's brain for information, as per their arrangement for the past six months.

Of course, Kuroba didn't typically look uneasy through the cracks in his confident mask, either, though he'd recently been tense and tired and even more self-contained than usual when doing business together or when Saguru observed him at school.

Kuroba didn't sit; instead, he stopped behind the client chair and crossed his arms along the top, eyes fixed on a point somewhere on Saguru's desk.

"What can I do for you, Kuroba-san?" Saguru inquired, quashing curiosity and slight nervousness alike beneath professionalism. Deviations in habit rarely heralded good news, and Kuroba did not seem pleased. If he'd decided to terminate their agreement…

Taking a deep breath, Kuroba asked, with uncharacteristic bluntness for a Japanese native, "What would it cost me to have you as backup on a Hunt?"

Saguru blinked. "I… That is, I'm not licensed…" Taking the exam would require registering his name, Clan background, and place of address in the Police's worldwide Hunter database. He didn't want that. Possibly couldn't afford risking it.

Kuroba waving a dismissive hand brought Saguru's attention back to reality. "So long as there's one licensed Hunter, assistants don't have to be licensed. The Hunter is liable for their actions, but I don't think that'd be something to worry about with you."

"I would expect not, but… Why me? Surely there are other, more experienced Hunters…"

A faint tang around Kuroba sharpened just enough to be noticeable, and Saguru realized with a shock that combined with the faint tells in body language, Kuroba seemed… embarrassed. Kuroba was _never_ embarrassed, not even when he'd ripped his gym shorts doing a ridiculous gymnastic routine in PE. He'd lapped up the attention then as much as he did for any other prank or disruption.

This was different. Embarrassment edging on anger, or possibly desperation, going by the now subtly clenching fists.

"I finally got some solid info for where the bastard who killed my dad might be, but none of the Hunters I took the exam with are in Tokyo and no one else has tagged him as a target of interest on the Hub. Jii-chan's too old for this." Kuroba looked up. "If I don't go now, he might be gone by tomorrow. So what will it cost me to retain you as backup?"

Saguru gazed into cold fire and realized with deadly certainty that if he didn't agree to this, Kuroba would go anyway. Sensible caution only lasted so long as he wasn't backed into a corner, alone.

"I…"

"If an extra pint of blood isn't enough, I'll split the bounty with you forty-sixty instead."

Saguru stared. 'Jackal' was a wanted suspect in at least three outstanding cases, not including Kuroba Toichi's murder— even splitting the bounty would likely cover Saguru's business expenses for months. In addition, participating in hunts could only help his reputation among Hunters, and impress any private citizenry looking to hire a detective.

Ensuring that Kuroba stayed alive and intact to continue their bargain in the future would be an added bonus.

He cleared his throat. "Fifty-fifty would be acceptable, provided my presence is left out of the official arrest log for this and any potential future hunts." At Kuroba's odd look, he smoothly added, "I don't want to risk my father disapproving. Finding criminals is rather different than actively chasing them."

He'd figure out a way to mark any achievements in his office, off the record, later. Rumor and word of mouth were less than reliable, especially in the civilian population.

Before Kuroba could follow up on the comment, he added, "What sort of time commitment do you anticipate for this?"

Something in Kuroba's gaze shifted minutely, an edge of wariness creeping in. "Would he object to you being gone all night?"

"I… don't know. I've never had reason to be." His business was still too new to have received any cases urgent enough to require working through the night.

Well, until now.

The chessboard waiting at home flashed through Saguru's mind. After a week of late nights, father always tried, at least, to spend part of Saturday evening with him. But there would still be Sunday…

"If I said I have a time-sensitive case, I would need evidence later to back it up." He glanced sidelong at Kuroba, ruthlessly squashing any guilt at the thought of lying to father. "You always seem to have a wealth of plausible excuses at school…"

A spark of hope replaced growing disappointment. "You bet. Um… You study a lot, right? You've always got a textbook up in your tree with you during lunch."

Saguru felt his cheeks start to burn, but managed to refrain from glancing at the drawer currently hiding his kanji textbook. "Yes."

He refused to admit that he'd arrived in Japan four years ago being fluent but functionally illiterate, and had been playing catch-up ever since.

Kuroba, thankfully, had bigger concerns than why the simple admission made Saguru flush. "So tell your dad you're staying the night at my house to cram for year-end exams. We've only got three weeks until then."

"At your… but that's…" They weren't friends. Certainly not close friends, and from what Saguru had observed that seemed to be a prerequisite for that sort of thing.

Kuroba gave him a puzzled look. "What?"

…Kuroba was unconventional for his culture. Their culture. Right. Especially since it wasn't like Saguru was actually ever going to see the inside of his house. "Never mind. I'll go with you."

"Okay," Kuroba agreed, some tension draining away into fierce anticipation. "Can you close the office now, and is there anything you need to pick up?"

"You're in luck. I don't have any appointments scheduled…" Saguru reached into the bottom-right desk drawer and retrieved a double-shot crossbow. "And I keep my equipment on-hand."

Kuroba nodded in satisfaction. "Metal arrows, or wood?"

"Wood soaked in colloidal silver." The two components gave a fair advantage against the two primary Clans he wouldn't want to risk fighting hand-to-hand. Stronger and faster than a human didn't mean impervious to injury or bleeding out.

Tucking the crossbow into the holster in his weatherproof trenchcoat, he slanted a wry half-smile at Kuroba. "I'm well aware of the irony of my choice of weapon."

"Always play to cover your weakness and exploit as many others' as possible," Kuroba replied, though Saguru didn't know the source of what sounded like a quote. "You're good at hand to hand—I've seen how you move in P.E.—so it makes sense you'd go for something ranged."

"…Quite." He'd have to pay more attention. He hadn't noticed Kuroba watching. "Lead the way."

Kuroba needed no urging.

* * *

After Hakuba left a message with his housekeeper, they made good time to the little town outside Tokyo where Jii's contacts had placed Jackal. Kaito didn't doubt that the information was solid. Jackal was the only mark for whom Jii would make an exception and allow Kaito use of his network of contacts, because the old man wanted to see Toichi's senseless death avenged nearly as much as Kaito did.

Of course, Jii thought Kaito had a licensed Hunter watching his back for this, but Kaito was sure Hakuba would be enough. The dhampire had fighter's instincts, for some reason—Jii still had yet to find anything about the black hole that was Hakuba's life before Japan—and the strength and speed to use them effectively. He would be able to handle anything Jackal tried to throw at them.

— _fire in the rain—_

"There." Kaito quashed the thought and pointed to the small inn a few blocks away, still visible in the growing dusk from the train station platform they were standing on. "He's staying there."

"You do have a plan, I hope?" Hakuba murmured back, but it was expectant, not carrying undertones of 'Oh kami why did I agree to this and how do I get out of it?'.

"Of course. Come on, I'll explain as we go."

The plan was quick to explain, and almost as easy to implement. The inn had only one way in or out of the building, and they gained access to the roof of the one-story 24-hour grocery across the road by merit of Kaito's Hunter's License and an earnest promise to keep all confrontations well away from the building.

They'd be doing that anyway, because Hunters were liable for up to half of any damages not covered by an owner's insurance, and Kaito didn't want to end the day poorer than he'd started it. But it never hurt to let someone think you were making a concession specifically to him.

The shop owner's attitude warmed to them further after Kaito bought some water bottles and high protein snacks, and the two boys quickly settled on a corner of the roof ensconced in a pair of weatherproof blankets Kaito had brought along in his backpack.

"The right kit can make or break a stake-out," he felt compelled to explain as he offered a hat, gloves and a pair of night-vision binoculars to Hakuba. "Though I guess I don't know how much you need any of it."

Hakuba accepted all three, and Kaito manfully restrained a snicker at the sight of the other teen eyeing the knitted hat dubiously before pulling it down over his ears, if only because he had one of his own.

"I am somewhat susceptible to cold, though I won't need the binoculars unless the street lamp over there goes out."

"Okay. How good are you with signals?" Kaito flashed a few hand-signs. The odds were decent Hakuba would recognize them, since Jii had taught Kaito the military-police-hunter standard, without mixing in the more colloquial hunter innovations.

"'Move together,' 'stop,' 'forty meters', and 'get the bastard'." Hakuba rattled off immediately, then paused. "You believe he'll move before dawn, then?"

He gestured with the binoculars at the goggles around Kaito's neck, ready for when the last tendrils of dusk faded into night. Kaito shrugged.

"I don't know. But I'll be dead before I lose this chance by assuming anything."

Hakuba nodded, and they divided the night into watches: together for the next three hours, then trading off every four hours until Jackal showed his ugly face. They would follow, and take the opportune moment to confront him, preferably ending in an arrest. Kaito didn't mention the other possibility for a successful result, but Hakuba didn't seem perturbed by the unspoken implication. Maybe it came of being a policeman's son.

The silence that settled after may have been awkward—Kaito had never mastered the art of reading those nuances—because after a few minutes Hakuba broke it with a question, tone carefully neutral.

"Earlier, you mentioned someone named Jii... Did you mean Jii Konosuke-san, of the Blue Parrot?"

Kaito blinked. "Yeah, why?"

It made sense for Hakuba to know of Jii—the man was fairly notorious in the information business for knowing everyone and everything a Hunter might find useful, for the right price. Kaito hadn't intended to bring him up, the name had just slipped out in the midst of everything else, but why Hakuba would care—

...Oh.

Hakuba answered the question just as he realized it himself. "If you are on close terms with Jii-san, what purpose does our... arrangement serve?"

Kaito laughed, without much humor. "He's an old friend of my—family's. But he doesn't approve of my being a Hunter so young, except when it gives us the chance to catch this particular bastard. Then he'll pass along the information, because he's too old to do more than teach these days and I'm the only Hunter willing to drop any other mark for this one. Otherwise I find leads on my own."

Hakuba seemed to consider this. When he replied, it focused on the last thing Kaito expected. "He teaches?"

"Well, yeah. The Parrot's usually open just in the evenings because that's when most people have time for a snooker game and a few drinks. He owns the dojo under the Blue Parrot and teaches a few of the morning classes, too."

A thoughtful nod. "A good way to form connections early with the demographic that may eventually join his other sphere."

"Mmm." Or an expensive gamble to give a furious, desperate child, with just enough knowledge to be dangerous to everyone, a place to demolish punching bags rather than go looking for real fights. And to practice meditation, and kata, and knife-fighting, and marksmanship with the tranquilizer handgun that any hunter with half a brain obtained a license for and adopted as their constant companion. Jii had done a lot for him, and he _was_ grateful... but it didn't stop the restrictions the older man still insisted on from chafing.

Kaito pulled his blanket over his head as the drizzle increased, mimicked by Hakuba a moment later. "It's a good dojo," he offered, unsure of what else to say. "Always open to new students."

"It's a bit difficult to take a student seriously as a colleague."

Kaito winced. "Point."

The silence fell again, and this time they didn't try to break it. But it was something of a relief when Hakuba's watch beeped softly, and he curled up to nap for the next few hours. The waiting didn't feel any less interminable, but at least the solitude was an arrangement he was used to.

Sometime around 2 AM, Hakuba's watch beeped again and the blond instantly twitched awake with an ease that bespoke long practice. A few murmured words confirmed that nothing had happened in the interim, and Kaito reluctantly stretched out with one ear open for trouble. Anticipation made sleep elusive, but he finally managed to slip into a sort of lucid doze until Hakuba hissed "Kuroba-san!" and all of his nerves fired in a rush of adrenaline.

Kaito silently rolled into a crouch and peered around the corner created by the air conditioning unit and the low retaining wall beside it. The cloud-muted streaks of pre-dawn light revealed a figure long since etched into memory, face clearly visible as he walked away from the inn with purposeful stride.

The world abruptly telescoped into a single point of focus.

With a small flurry of hand-signals, the rooftop and majority of their supplies were abandoned for the chase—if one called 'painstakingly shadowing from a relatively safe distance' a chase. Jackal certainly moved quickly enough, and Kaito might have lost him more than once if not for Hakuba's sharper vision.

Eventually, however, Jackal paused at the entrance to a narrow alley, and gut instinct propelled Kaito to dart after him almost before the Naga had stepped out of sight. Pulling out the tranquilizer handgun, Kaito stepped out from the wall's cover just enough to get a clear shot into the alley.

"Hold it right there, you bastard. You're under arrest."

After so many years of tracking and dreaming and imagining this moment, it was almost anticlimactic when Jackal turned to face him without so much as a flicker of recognition.

"Go home, brats, before your games get someone hurt."

"You're under arrest," Kaito repeated, praying to any kami who would listen that his voice didn't crack, "for the murders of Takeshi Setsuna, Yamada Ken, and—Kuroba Toichi. Resistance will be met with force."

Hakuba seemed to take his cue, and stepped around Kaito with all due caution, zipties in hand.

"Hands behind your back, sir." The respectful address was unintentional, going by how Hakuba instantly looked like he'd bitten into something sour as Jackal made a sort of hissing laugh.

The dhampire's eyes flashed—Kaito would swear that for a moment they literally glowed—and when he spoke, the growl had perhaps a few extra harmonics layered in. "Turn around."

Jackal obeyed, and Hakuba quickly closed the remaining distance between them, still taking care to not interfere with Kaito's line of sight.

And then it all went sideways.

Between one blink and the next, Jackal somehow whirled to catch Hakuba around the throat with one arm, the other bringing a gun almost to bear before Kaito's reflexes responded to the initial movement and fired the tranq gun. Jackal's move had shifted his center of mass, and of the three darts one missed entirely, one hit the gun barrel, and one pierced the Naga's black leather glove, forcing him to drop the gun and rip the dart out with his teeth before a full dose of the liquid could hit his system.

It didn't, however, make him loosen his choke-hold on Hakuba in the least, and now Kaito was out of darts.

"Idiots," Jackal snarled as Hakuba writhed in his hold, a futile gesture in the face of his shorter stature and utter lack of leverage—even with his toes barely scraping the ground, Hakuba's head would barely contact Jackal's chin if he tried. "You thought a pathetic will like yours could compel _me?_ "

Hakuba's breathless reply was less than coherent, but the undoubtedly unprintable sentiment still came through in his tone.

Kaito only noticed this in a distant sort of way, because he was too busy charging, dirks drawn, at the Bastard Naga who was reaching into his coat—

_caught in the alley—_

threatening his Hunter-partner—

_rain weeping for the dead—_

and then the rising, wordless scream of rage froze into ice in Kaito's throat, as the tip of a snagtooth dagger punched into view through the general vicinity of Hakuba's left kidney.


	2. Part Two

The dagger vanished a moment later, Jackal dropping the blond onto his feet and in the same movement shoving him off the dagger's hooked edge. Hakuba stumbled into Kaito's trajectory with a noise of muted agony, and Kaito barely managed to drop one dirk behind him and throw the other around Hakuba at Jackal before the blades created extra holes during the unavoidable collision.

Kaito was rewarded with what might have been a strangled grunt from Jackal, and then a clang— _gate, door, manhole cover?—_ as he apparently fled before the triple dose of tranquilizer coated on the dirk could have more effect than merely inhibiting his flames. A small, detached part of Kaito's mind noted that Jackal seemed too fast to be even Naga but had no venom, and wouldn't that be ironic, an assassin born to the wrong Naga clan to have any natural poison...

The rest of him didn't give a damn about any of that, too busy trying to keep Hakuba's head from hitting concrete as they crumpled to the ground. "Hold on, I've got you, it's gonna be fine..."

Laying him out revealed that Hakuba's face had paled to nearly the same shade as his white shirt, except for the red stain already spreading through the cloth.

"Sorry—my fault—shouldn't've asked—" Kaito fumbled with his jacket to wrap around both wounds and then apply pressure with one hand while finding his phone with the other, trying to breathe through the vise around his chest and the _deja vu_ pounding at his mind because it was _happening again—_

Two hands covered his, increasing the pressure against Hakuba's side but still failing to have much effect on the tide of red leaking through their collective fingers. Snagtooths always tore up more on the way out than the way in. "It's really my own fault... careless. Too sure it'd worked..."

The blond was breathing through his mouth, slow and shallow, and Kaito's gaze caught on the two fine points that had apparently elongated as a reflex to Hakuba's injury, seeking...

"You're a dhampire," he stated stupidly, trying to get his mind to unfreeze and start working again, the traitorously useless thing, and grasp the elusive seed of an idea that was trying to break through the haze of panic.

"Yes, well done, you," Hakuba snarked. "Just human enough to be utterly useless in a pinch."

"No, I mean... Fresh blood. You'd heal fast enough to stop bleeding out." He shifted, phone dropping forgotten as he tried to figure out the best vein to keep them both alive and conscious, only to stop short as small lines of fire blossomed in the hand under Hakuba's. "Ow!"

...Okay, Hakuba's neatly-kept fingernails were, in fact, strong and sharp enough that the blond going abruptly rigid had scored deeply enough to draw blood.

"Sorry," Hakuba ground out as if by reflex, but his hands remained curled, his eyes and nose flared as he stared with a hint of what in anyone else Kaito might have called horror, and his face had gone even paler at the suggestion. Or maybe that was blood loss, and that was why Kaito was even _thinking_ about this, no ambulance would arrive in time at this rate of hemorrhage, so why wouldn't Hakuba just—

Before he could think twice, Kaito tore the hand free of Hakuba's grip and pulled him partially upright against Kaito's legs, then held the seeping cuts just above the dhampire's open mouth. "Take it!"

Rather than obey, Hakuba shuddered convulsively and turned his head away, eyes clamped shut.

— _find a better partner, kid—_

"No one else is dying on me, damn it!" There was definitely a hysterical edge creeping in there, but that didn't matter if Hakuba would just _listen_.

"Hurt you," Hakuba protested weakly, voice ragged with pain and a few other things Kaito didn't have time to identify.

_Don't shake the injured idiot._

Kaito grabbed Hakuba by the jaw and forced his head back to face him, glaring upside-down into the eyes that flew open in response. "You'll hurt me more if you don't."

For several agonizing seconds, Hakuba merely looked bewildered by the concept. Then something clicked, or proximity and instinct finally overcame whatever weird mental hang-ups were getting in the way. His eyes closed again as he grabbed Kaito's bloody hand away from his jaw and jerked the wrist up to his mouth, a swipe of—wet—followed by a sharp sting that quickly eased to simple pressure.

Kaito hissed anyway as the fangs slid back out to let the blood pool freely, half in response to the initial pain and half at his brain pointing out that he was essentially getting drooled on, even if the saliva was a source of near-instant painkiller. It was impossible to tell if the second swipe of— _yes, gngh, tongue—_ across the wound was a conscious response to Kaito's hiss, or merely an attempt to get the blood faster. At this point, it probably didn't matter. Kaito just let it all happen and hoped that as desperate gambits went, this would be enough.

_No one dies on me. Not ever again._

_...Even if you walk away after this, instead._

Adrenaline still had Kaito's heart pumping fast, which helped speed the transfer as Hakuba lapped and swallowed and coaxed more from his bloodstream in a sort of three-point rhythm. Following it was easy enough, because there wasn't much else to focus on even if he hadn't been worrying so much about Hakuba bleeding out.

The pull was almost hypnotic, really. Kaito fought a yawn. The fatigue wasn't bad enough yet to be a concern, but he'd probably have low blood pressure for a while. Which meant having to find another way to pay Hakuba next week, and damn it, Jackal and his justice and his reward price had gotten away...

But even Jackal caught wouldn't have been worth the price of Hakuba. Dad would understand having to wait a little longer, until Kaito's next chance.

After what was probably no more than a minute or two but felt easily ten times longer, Hakuba's hand relaxed around the blood-soaked jacket, and the possessive grip around Kaito's arm released. Hakuba immediately sat up, shucking his trenchcoat and ripping a sleeve off his shirt in the time Kaito needed to wrap his good hand around the bite and cradle it against his chest, which neatly answered the question of whether Hakuba felt well enough to survive. The movement fluttered his torn shirt enough to reveal the pink of new skin, blessedly free of holes.

Hakuba proffered the sleeve without meeting Kaito's eyes. "You should wrap that until we can get some proper medical supplies—I suppose your backpack has a kit?"

"Yeah. Thanks. Do you mind...?" It was possible to wrap an arm wound by yourself. It was not easy, or pleasant.

"Oh. Yes, of course." A few deft movements wound the cotton a few times around Kaito's arm. Hakuba eyed the result critically, then added the other sleeve for good measure. "Are you all right? I tried to keep track, but it's—not easily comparable."

"Jus' tired, I think." Kaito tried to stand, but quickly discovered this was a bad idea and resettled to hug his knees, letting gravity do part of the pressure-work against the bandage. "Really tired. How about you?"

"I'm fine." Hakuba pulled his coat back on, fidgeting with the sleeves. "Better than fine, you could say; I might have taken more by accident than was strictly necessary, whereas you might take longer than normal to clot..."

Kaito shrugged. "I'm used to being a little bit low, and we're both alive. I'll call this a win." He gave Hakuba a crooked grin. "I guess we went with an extra pint rather than half the bounty after all."

Hakuba actually flinched. "You don't owe me anything for rescuing me from my own foolishness."

"You wouldn't have been in danger if I hadn't dragged you out here," Kaito argued.

"I chose to come of my own will. I gave Jackal-san the opening. The responsibility was mine."

"...It could just as easily have been me lying there."

Hakuba's response was barely audible, even for Kaito. "I know." He continued, louder and with an edge of formality taking over as he stood and bowed, "Thank you for saving my life, Kuroba-san. I'll try to repay your kindness in the future, starting with getting you home safely."

Maybe it was the low blood pressure, but the first response that came to Kaito's mind was, "After this? Call me Kuroba-kun."

Hakuba stared at him.

After several moments of silence, Kaito grumped, "Or don't. It just seems stupid to be that formal after surviving this together."

"...As you say." Hakuba gave him a searching, unreadable look, then extended a hand. "We can gather your things on the way to the train station, if you care to lean on me."

"Not my favorite mode of transport, but somehow I think I'll survive." Kaito started to grab for Hakuba's hand, then remembered their last piece of business in the alley. "Wait. Jackal's gun—it fell over there, by my dirk. Can you bring them?"

Hakuba raised an eyebrow. "We're not old enough to have the license to make even picking that up legal. You plan to keep it?"

"If we call the police, we'd have to explain all of this and might get booked for being associated with it anyway. If we leave it, anything might happen. If we take it, there's the chance that we might be able to trace it. So yes, I'm going to take it, and then put it somewhere safe and try to forget it exists." Kaito gave Hakuba a flat look, daring him to say anything. Hakuba looked discomfited, but in the end he simply sighed.

"You're right; I've seen police bureaucracy at work. If I ever hear about it again, though..." He snorted faintly. "Actually, there's nothing I can say or do that would match the massive amount of trouble you'd already be in at that point, so I won't try."

"Good. But you won't, so it's a moot point." Even the small, vengeful part of Kaito's mind knew that Snake dead from his own bullet in the near future would create _far_ more problems than it solved. The gun would simply cease to exist, at least until Kaito was old enough for the license.

Hakuba quickly retrieved the weapons, safetied gun slipped into his trenchcoat while Kaito's dirk returned to its proper sheath. When finished, however, it was his turn to pause, and rather than offer his hand again he walked around Kaito and retrieved a hose attached to a water spigot further down the alley. Kaito very carefully did not smack himself in the head for forgetting about the significant pool of blood not six inches away from his feet, and instead scooted out of the way using his three good limbs.

"Right. Good idea—thanks for remembering."

"It seems the least I could do to clean up my own mess." Hakuba kept the water on until the ground was likely cleaner than it had been when they first entered the alley, letting the runoff flow into the street's storm catch at the alley entrance. He applied the same treatment to Kaito's jacket until the material was soaked, but not obviously bloody, then finally returned the hose to its place and approached Kaito once more. "If you're ready?"

"As I'll ever be." Kaito grabbed Hakuba's free hand and was quickly hauled upright—either the dhampire was a _lot_ stronger than he let on in PE, or the recent feeding had some additional effect. Or both.

Hakuba got Kaito's good arm slung over his shoulders, and wrapped a steadying arm around Kaito's waist. His free hand carried the much-abused jacket. "All right?"

Kaito couldn't help but grin. "Home, James."

He was rewarded with a half-stifled bark of laughter. "Bloody hell, where did you pick that up?"

"The internet is a strange and interesting place."

Hakuba shook his head, but some of tension leeched from his shoulders, and a hint of a smile hovered on his lips. "You're crazy."

"And proud of it. Come on... there's still time to get home before my mom does, and I can find you a spare shirt."

"I don't think I'm your size." Hakuba seemed utterly bemused, wondering how the situation had gotten away from him.

"We have a costume closet." Kaito grinned again at Hakuba's expression, focusing on the good rather than bitter part of the memories. "Dad hunted rogue Hunters. He knew when a good disguise was important."

"I... see. If you insist... very well." Hakuba started them forward, taking one careful step at a time. "Though if you wish to create the appearance of an evening and morning's productive study, I'm afraid I left my textbooks at home. ...Nor do I have an appropriate visiting gift."

Kaito considered this. He had plenty of time, since they weren't traveling any faster now than when they had been following Snake. "Mom knows I was on a hunt, we'll just have to deal with the bloody clothes so she doesn't worry. As for a gift, I think we'll both be happy with me getting home."

"A person is not appropriate gift material." Hakuba actually sounded appalled at the idea. A good thing, considering the perspective of some plasmavores—though the fact that his mind went from 'Kaito safe' to Kaito himself was interesting.

"True, though 'well-being' is a little bit different from 'person'. Um..." Kaito cast about for an acceptable alternative to satisfy Hakuba's unrelenting sense of propriety. "When you go get our stuff from the store roof, you can buy something with chocolate in it on your way back out. Okay?"

"Certainly." Hakuba looked relieved at the prospect, and seemed content to walk in silence the rest of the way to the store, and then on to the train station through the slowly lightening pre-dawn. Kaito happily joined in, because the further they walked the more concentration he needed to stay in a straight line without stumbling. Thankfully, Hakuba was willing to match his speed and had the decency to not offer to carry him.

The station was still deserted when they finally made it back up the thrice-cursed hill, too early for even the morning commuters to have arrived yet. Kaito collapsed gratefully onto the nearest bench while Hakuba went in to buy their tickets for the return trip to Tokyo, Hakuba having won the argument of who was paying because Kaito was too exhausted to keep insisting that it was his responsibility.

On its own, the blood loss might not have been too bad, but it was ganging up with the post-crisis adrenaline dump, having been up for almost twenty hours in the past twenty-four, the numbness of his wrist fading, and currently having only a t-shirt to keep the morning chill off his arms.

...The last two, at least, he could do something about, because there were lovely things like blankets and painkillers in the handy backpack Hakuba had so kindly dumped on the bench beside him. An awkward one-handed rummage through the backpack liberated the first-aid kit—which, he vaguely realized, might have been good to bring along while Jackal-hunting even if it would have been useless for Hakuba, because having had it immediately for his arm would have saved a lot of pain from re-dressing in the very near future, especially since he refused to be licked again outside of another emergency feeding, which hopefully wouldn't be necessary again _ever._

But he was trying to stop the dull ache now, so maybe if that worked out then the antiseptic wouldn't sting like needles and scalding water and pecks from a pissed-off dove. Wrestling the kit open revealed the coveted painkillers in their little plastic bottle, safe and sound and... with a childproof cap. That needed two good hands to open.

Clearly, the kami must hate him.

He slumped sideways against the backpack, too busy laughing at the irony to go after the blanket, because if he tried right now it would probably be damp and cold and not in the least useful for what he wanted it to do either, because someone had apparently decided that Kaito'd used up all of his karma making sure Hakuba didn't die, so why should anything else today go right?

The laughter apparently masked nearby footsteps, because an English "Oh, for God's sake," was all the warning Kaito had before the bottle disappeared from his hands, he was gently tipped back upright, and two small pills of happiness were pressed into his good palm as Hakuba's face appeared at eye-level with a look of genuine concern.

"Do you need water to keep those down?"

Hand curling closed, Kaito shrugged philosophically. "If the bottles haven't leaked out."

"Why would the-?" Hakuba broke off and dug through the backpack, removing a blanket and two half-full bottles with a relieved sigh. "No leaks. Here."

Kaito tossed back the pills and accepted a bottle warily, but no ethereally sadistic sense of humor got in the way of swallowing without incident, which he supposed he ought to be grateful for but it was probably just Hakuba's luck managing to cancel out his own. As Kaito took a second sip from the bottle, Hakuba shook out the blanket, rubbed the sides briskly against each other, and dropped it—not just not-damp but blissfully almost-warm from the friction—around Kaito's shoulders.

"And my apologies for not having realized earlier that you're freezing."

Kaito pulled the blanket as tightly closed as he could manage, trapping the warmth, and fought the urge to purr because purring was for non-Hunts, for home, not public spaces, even deserted ones. "'S okay. Thanks."

"Mmm." Hakuba retrieved the first-aid kit from where it had slid off Kaito's leg onto the bench and looked around. "We still have some time before the train, and none of the station employees are watching this area. It would be best to fix your arm before any more time passes, if you feel up to it."

"...Don't wanna." Kaito slipped his arm out from under the blanket, watching the shirt-sleeve bandage come undone a little with the movement. "Do it anyway."

"I'll be as quick as I can."

Hakuba was good to his word, and Kaito only hissed—hisses were fine, after all, purrs were just special—when the worst of the antiseptic flushed the punctured skin, though he immediately felt a little bit bad about it because he was pretty sure Hakuba stomped on a flinch at the sound, and he hadn't meant for the blond to feel guilty about something that was Kaito's idea in the first place. He couldn't really apologize for it, though, so he just watched Hakuba finish the cleaning and re-wrapping with excruciating care, and realized with a distant sort of interest that Hakuba actually knew what he was doing. Not only that, but Kaito'd never considered for a moment that Hakuba might _not_.

Huh.

Commuters started trickling into the station as Hakuba finished, but no one paid them much attention, probably because they weren't trying to be disruptive. Disruptive had its place, of course, but Kaito had left Yuki-chan and Irene-chan and the other doves back home rather than risk them as collateral damage from Jackal and it was hard to do anything with cards without two hands, and there weren't any pretty girls around to do flower-magic for.

Although since they were still waiting... Kaito gently flexed his arm against the tightness of the bandage, and nodded. "Thanks. Feels solid. Wanna play cards?"

Hakuba blinked at him. "...Are you certain you're entirely lucid enough for that? You're fighting shock."

Kaito grinned widely. "I could play cards with a concussion."

"I hope you'll understand when I say I'd prefer to never see you try."

Doubts aside, Hakuba relented when Kaito triumphantly retrieved one of his decks of cards from an outer backpack pocket and would have started a solitaire game if Hakuba refused to deal the hands for two-ten-jack.

"We play poker at home," Kaito explained as Hakuba dealt the cards (so slow!), "but I didn't bring chips and it wouldn't be fair to play that one if we're not at our best, what with near-death experiences and blood loss and everything. It wouldn't be as fun."

"Which is the important thing," Hakuba replied dryly as he set the deck down between them.

"Of course. Why else play, if not for money?"

"Indeed."

Kaito made a mental note to try a proper game of poker against Hakuba sometime, and then they played until the train pulled in. Hakuba had won once by then and the second game could have gone either way, but Kaito's eyelids were starting to droop and he couldn't find the energy to demand saving the game for later or even a rematch as Hakuba swiftly packed everything but Kaito's blanket away.

They boarded without major incident, but the entrance steps were too narrow for two people and Kaito spent the last of his energy reserves maintaining his pride and clumping up the steps alone. As soon as he dropped into his seat by the window there might as well have been graffiti on the glass telling him that enough was enough and it was time for sleep now or the rest of his body just might mutiny against his mind and that would not be a pleasant experience, so don't push it.

He chuffed softly and curled up in his blanket, head dropping against the side of the headrest. "Wake me when we get there."

He didn't hear if Hakuba replied.

He didn't even dream, beneath the veil of exhaustion, and only awoke to a still-groggy level of coherence when Hakuba shook his shoulder. He shuffled along in response to prompting, managed to not break his neck on a few stairs, and couldn't coherently protest Hakuba hailing a taxi. When he tried, Hakuba pointed out that Kaito would have to do less walking with a taxi, and Kaito couldn't think of any sufficient reason to object. Surrendering to the inevitable, he allowed himself to be herded into the car, mumbled his home address to the Elfin driver, and spent the rest of the trip in another dozing stupor.

"Is this normal?" He yawned at Hakuba when they had finally reached the front door and he had only to figure out which backpack pocket he'd put his housekeys in. "I feel like I haven't slept for a week."

Hakuba raised an eyebrow. "Have you?"

Kaito squinted his eyes, thinking. "Okay, maybe it's been a few days since I got a full six hours."

"You know, most sentients our age consider a full night's sleep to be at least eight. So no, you have multiple factors compounding your exhaustion. Normal would be..." Hakuba cleared his throat, abruptly awkward. "I presume normal would be how you feel after drawing blood."

Kaito nodded, then gave a quiet "Ha!" as he finally found the key and got the door open. "Good to know."

"Why?" Hakuba asked, sounding startled.

"Just in case anything like this happens again, I'll know what to expect. I like being prepared." He stepped inside and beckoned. "Come on in, then... I'm home!" he called to the empty house, with a softer "Welcome home," immediately after, because he always did whenever mom wasn't home, and a guest wasn't reason enough to break that.

Hakuba quickly retrieved the chocolates he'd bought and followed Kaito inside, shutting the front door behind them and then taking a deep breath, as if recalling a script. "Thank you for your hospitality; this is only a trifling thing, but please accept it..."

...It even _sounded_ like he was reading from some internal script. Kaito wondered if Hakuba had ever actually had cause to visit someone in the last four years, then abruptly realized that the blond was still holding the chocolates out and his expression was starting to waver from 'polite visitor' to 'worried neophyte.'

Kaito smiled tiredly. "Thanks, it's perfect. Bring it over to the couch and we can share it for breakfast."

" _Breakfast?_ " But Hakuba did follow, setting down the chocolates and then shedding the backpack in a movement that made his coat flutter and reminded Kaito of what the coat was hiding.

"Chocolate is food for any meal, and I don't think I'm up to standing much in the kitchen right now. We can finish the stuff I bought earlier if you want protein. But before you sit down, I need your shirt. The clothes and the incinerator are both in the basement, and I don't want to make the trip twice."

Hakuba hesitated, then shrugged. He unbuttoned the shirt and tore a few more seams to be able to take it off without needing to remove his coat in the process, and re-buttoned the coat closed before he held out the bloody rag. "You have an incinerator?"

"It goes with the job. Here." Kaito took the shirt and pressed the TV remote into Hakuba's hand before moving to dig out his jacket. "Find something that looks interesting and I'll be right back."

Of course, usually an incinerator in the basement didn't have its main access via a hidden ladder from what was currently Kaito's room, and a back entrance down an equally camouflaged (if much more mundane) flight of stairs from the master bedroom. In deference to his still slightly wobbly legs, Kaito took the stairs to the room that housed two generations worth of hunting and stage magic equipment.

"Hey, Dad," he murmured as he stepped inside. "I'm back. I didn't get him, but you probably knew that already..."

The room didn't answer, but he kept talking as he set the clothes to burn and went looking for a shirt and pants—the black material hid it from sight, but Hakuba'd probably been sitting on dried blood this whole time—that would fit.

"Do you remember Hakuba-kun? I told you about him before. Well, he came with me today—and he probably saved my life. And then I saved his, I guess. But... he didn't die. That's something, right?"

Kaito pulled out a plaid button-up business shirt and made a face. No. Just... no. "He's got issues—but who doesn't? It's no wonder he treats everyone like business associates, he doesn't seem to have any experience with friends. Though maybe that's just in Japan... I don't know. Must be a hell of a story."

He sighed. "I don't know if I'll take him hunting again. One near death experience is enough for anyone, right? But I might invite him over to cram for real, because no one should be _that_ awkward. Seriously, Dad, did you see him? Maybe with a little practice, he'll do okay when he meets someone worth really getting to know. Or at least someone who isn't on the fast track to die young."

A wince, imagining Touichi's frown. "I didn't mean to say that. I don't _plan_ on it, you know that, I just... I have to get Jackal. And I don't want to hurt anyone I don't have to in case something goes... wrong. Wronger."

Kaito quickly grabbed a white polo shirt and some black slacks that looked the right size and retreated before the silence of the room could get overwhelming. Sometimes it felt like someone really was there, listening, just beyond audibility... but there couldn't be. Documented ghosts were almost as rare as documented _basilisks_ , for Lupin's sake, and Dad... wouldn't have had the time to make a ghost-oath of unfinished business. Not with an explosion like that.

Back in the living room, Kaito found Hakuba sitting gingerly on the couch, watching an episode of The Muppet Show. Well, theoretically; his head had turned to face the doorway before Kaito got there, the same sort of alert expectation he showed at his office. Kaito didn't feel much like grinning at the moment, but did anyway. "Nice choice."

"Ah... Thank you. It seemed like something you would find amusing." Hakuba stood and gestured at Kaito's hands. "Is there somewhere I might...?"

Kaito directed Hakuba to the bathroom to change, then plopped onto the couch and absently opened the chocolates while trying to work out whether Hakuba's comment had meant he'd watched the Muppets before or not.

Two chocolate truffles and a dance number later the question remained unresolved, so Kaito asked as soon as Hakuba reappeared. To his surprise, something unreadable flickered in Hakuba's eyes before the blond answered quietly,

"Yes, years ago. I haven't had the chance in a long time, though."

Kaito hid a frown and waved him over. "Well then, come sit. Watch. You can go home in a few hours and tell your dad you lost track of time."

"But I don't." Hakuba resumed his seat on the couch anyway, neatly-folded clothes on his lap.

"Don't what?"

"Lose track of time. Not outside a margin of error of approximately two and a half minutes."

"...That must be useful."

"It has its moments. But you see why that excuse is untenable."

And Hakuba... apparently wanted an excuse more than he wanted to leave. Even though he had new clothes and Kaito home safe, he was still waiting half-hopefully for Kaito to come up with a better reason. Somehow Kaito wasn't surprised that Hakuba possessed little to no experience stretching, wrangling or otherwise playing with the truth.

Kaito smiled. "You were making such good progress, you didn't want to interrupt it. And you're coming back next weekend to study some more, this time with actual textbooks."

Hakuba blinked. "I am?"

Kaito carefully did not snicker. "If you want. It wouldn't hurt to _actually_ study a bit for finals."

And maybe they could sneak in that poker game. Near-disasters aside, Hakuba was interesting. Maybe tomorrow Kaito'd worry about Hakuba caring about what happened to him, but for now he still wanted more to poke at what made the blond tick. (If anyone claimed he felt somewhat responsible for the socially awkward dhampire who'd bled for him and he'd bled for in return, Kaito would deny it to his dying breath. Denial didn't always make things not true, of course. But he was going to stop listening to the voice of exhaustion now because that voice tended to bring up things he didn't like thinking about.)

"When you put it that way..." Hakuba gave a tentative smile. "I could use all the study time I can get. Perhaps Friday?"

Kaito grinned back. "Deal."

Hakuba needed practice dealing with people. And possibly—Kaito didn't have enough information yet to be sure—with living. Well, Kaito was feeling ambitious. He could up Hakuba's normal quotient between hunts and school without going so far as necessarily being friends, which would just be asking for trouble, and Dad would have been proud of him for being magnanimous like that.

He curled up in his blanket, satisfied, and let his eyes slip closed again. Maybe he should try to stay awake until Mom got home, but...

The last thing he heard was a soft, "Pleasant dreams, Kuroba... kun."


End file.
